


Behind Closed Doors

by permixtaomnia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 08:10:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2644499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/permixtaomnia/pseuds/permixtaomnia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matthew's left for a vacation, leaving Alfred to entertain himself. Luckily, a club's opened up, leading the older brother into a world of secrets and passion. He ends up falling for a concubine who looks eerily familiar in the strange world, of who has more to him than what meets the eye...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

> In later chapters, the story will be a lot smuttier, so if you're not looking for that, this is not the fic for you!

“… Say, how long did you say you’d be gone?”

“Just a few weeks, don’t worry.”

“Psh, I’m not worried. I gotta look out for my little brother, y’know?”  
Matthew chuckled, wearing a small smile. “Yeah, I know. See you, Alfred.”  
Alfred waved to his brother once more, and watched him walk out the door, duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He let his hand drop after the door was shut, and he leaned back lazily on the couch. What was he supposed to do without his little brother? Well… He rolled over and grabbed a small pamphlet. He eyed the glossy cover a couple of times over, reading the cover each time. He lied down on his stomach and dropped the thing. Nah, it was too early to go, he thought, it’s a night club. He rolled himself over again and rested his hands behind his head, sighing and shutting his eyes. He deserved a nap. … The phone, shit, who’s calling at this hour..? He slapped his hand against the home phone and lifted the damned thing to his ear. “Hello..?”

“Alfred!! Jeez, where are you?!”

He winced at the loud, almost squeaky voice on the other end. “I’m home, duh. Who is this?”

“THE AWESOME FUCKING PRU—I mean, shit, it’s Gilbert!! You said you’d be at the door at seven!”  
Alfred looked at his watch and jolted up, nearly dropping the phone. 7:30. He blubbered and rose to his feet, grabbing a pair of jeans and pulling them on. Holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder, he shouted, “I’ll be down there in a few minutes, okay?” He hung up the phone quickly and dropped it, stepping into his sneakers and grabbing his mobile phone from a small table next to the sofa. He rushed out the door without turning back.

Gilbert waved the panting American over, watching the blond man stagger over. “Took you long enough!” He said. Alfred groaned and stood up straight, walking through the black door being held open for him. Through the door was a red curtain with faint salmon pinstripes. As the duo walked through, they were greeted by a large man whose face was covered by a pale blue mask. Through the shiny, hard material, a prominent nose could still be picked out. The figure held out two masks, one for each of them. Alfred held the masquerade mask, trimmed with frills the colors of fireworks. On the inside was a number; 070-4. When he looked back to Gilbert, he was already wearing a sleek plague doctor mask, the beak substantially shorter and only covering his nose. Alfred donned his mask and followed the tall man through a corridor. Gilbert grabbed his companion’s hand and led him into a dimly-lit room, two red lounge chairs within it. Along with the furniture was a man with a small build, sitting on his knees and wearing a black blindfold. Alfred jumped.

“Wh-who’s that?!” He questioned loudly, pointing to the man in the corner. The man stood, his nudity becoming immediately clear. “And why is he naked?!”

“Master,” the stranger said, his r’s seeming naturally flipped, “who’s this?”

“A friend of mine. He’s new to this place, is all. 070-4.”  
The brown-haired man cracked a childish smile. “Oh, nice to meet you, then!” He turned to Alfred, his smile widening. The larger of the two of them took a focused look at the curl jutting out of the fellow’s head. … He knew this man. A sharp static punched his train of thought right of its tracks. “Hmm? They’re starting the bidding early today…” he said with a pout. An image of a clown mask flashed on the small TV screen. Gilbert took a seat in one of the chairs. Alfred followed suit, looking at the image. On the screen, person after person, male after female, their images showed on the screen, a number next to the image. Alfred sat by boredly, head resting in his hand. One blindfolded face after another, one string of numbers after the next. Until the third to last one. Alfred’s eyes widened at the naked figure before him, shown to him on the screen. The man’s pale skin and blond hair made his heart skip a beat, but why? He hadn’t seen anybody like that before.

Gilbert smiled as the broadcast ended. “Find one you want to see?” he asked, a snicker in his voice. Alfred nodded. The German motioned to a small keypad on the arm of Alfred’s chair. “You remember his number, right? Punch it in there.” He stood up, dusting himself off. “Come, baby.” The smaller fellow rose to his feet and followed Gil out of the room, waving Alfred goodbye. With that, they were gone. Alfred punched in 003-1 and waited patiently.


End file.
